


Working It Out

by enigmaticblue



Series: Alternate S2 [1]
Category: Eureka
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-30
Updated: 2010-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Nathan have a run-in at the gym. A little competition is healthy, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working It Out

Nathan pretended not to watch as Carter programmed the weight for the bench press. He thought it a pity that the sheriff had figured out how to work the magnetic resistance. Watching Carter had been a lot more entertaining when he hadn’t known how to use the gym.

 

Then again, Nathan knew Allison had been running with Carter, so maybe Carter had avoided using the gym with others present, at least until he knew how the weights worked.

 

Nathan adjusted his speed on the treadmill—up—and watched as Carter’s muscles bunched and strained under the weight he was benching. The one problem with the magnetic weights was that it was impossible to tell from this distance how much weight Carter was lifting.

 

When Carter glanced over at him, Nathan increased the speed again, even though he was pushing the limits of his endurance. Carter nodded at him, then laid back on the bench again for another set.

 

His eye was caught by the beads of sweat rolling down Carter’s face and the play of muscles under smooth, tanned skin. Nathan forced himself to look away; now was not the time to get excited. He still had another fifteen minutes on the treadmill.

 

Nathan kept catching glimpses of Jack—on the incline press, the leg press, doing bicep curls. He’d known that Carter was in shape in theory; his job certainly required it. But Nathan usually focused on the sheriff’s average intelligence, or how annoying he could be as he tried to enforce rules Nathan would prefer to ignore.

 

And watching Carter making the circuit, easy competence in every movement, had Carter’s attractiveness ratcheting up another couple of notches.

 

It just wasn’t fair.

 

Nathan slowed his pace as he finished up his run, cooling down as Jack toweled off and gulped down a bottle of water.

 

He’d expected Jack to leave, but instead he strolled over to Nathan’s treadmill. “Hey, Dr. Stark. Have a nice run?”

 

Nathan was never quite sure how to take Carter’s friendliness, and he paused before hitting the stop button. “I did. And you?”

 

“Didn’t run,” Carter responded, rocking back on his heels. “But you know that. You were watching me enough.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nathan replied stiffly. He grabbed his own towel and started for the door.

 

Carter jogged to keep up, clearly not knowing when to leave well enough alone. “You heading to Café Diem?”

 

Nathan thought about denying it, even though Carter probably knew that Nathan always went to Café Diem for a post-work out smoothie. Usually, Nathan worked out with Allison, much like the first time Nathan had spotted Carter in the gym, and then they relaxed together afterward.

 

Their thrice-weekly trips to the gym were just one aspect of the renewed closeness they had developed; he and Allison were united in their efforts to help Kevin.

 

In spite of that, Nathan couldn’t help but see Carter every time he turned around, and the more often they were thrown together—or that they had to save each other—the harder it became to ignore the chemistry there.

 

“Well? You going to Café Diem?” Carter prodded.

 

Nathan cleared his throat. “Yeah, I guess so.”

 

“So am I.”

 

Nathan gave Carter his best glare, and it rolled right off the sheriff’s back. Nathan sighed, more for appearances’ sake than anything else. “I don’t suppose I could get rid of you.”

 

Carter grinned. “Why would you want to?”

 

Nathan decided that he didn’t have an appropriate response. They entered Café Diem together, and he noted Vincent’s speculative look.

 

He decided not to question it.

 

“Two protein shakes, Vincent,” Carter ordered.

 

Vincent beamed at him. “Coming right up, Sheriff.”

 

Nathan slid onto a barstool, noting when Carter slid onto the seat next to him. “So, any reason you were staring at me while I was lifting?”

 

Nathan resolutely did _not_ look over at the sheriff. “I told you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Come on, Stark,” Carter wheedled. “I saw you.”

 

Nathan glanced over to see Carter’s bright grin, and—was Carter _flirting_ with him? “And what if I was?” he asked carefully.

 

Carter smirked. “I’d say I hoped you enjoyed the show.”

 

Definitely flirting. Carefully, Nathan felt Carter out. “I did, actually. I had no idea you could use the weights.”

 

To his credit, Carter laughed, even though the joke was at his own expense. “I had SARAH look it up. Once in a while, I read an instruction manual.”

 

“That’s better than 90% of the population.”

 

“Including you?”

 

Nathan couldn’t hide his grin. “Yeah, including me.”

 

“You know,” Carter began casually, “I’m done for the rest of the day. You?”

 

“I, uh, I actually have to get back to Global,” Nathan replied, momentarily thrown. When Carter’s face fell, he realized that he had read the signs right.

 

And he wanted to go for it.

 

“I’m free for dinner, though,” Nathan quickly added. “I’ll be here around seven.”

 

Carter grabbed his shake in its biodegradable cup. “Great. Maybe I’ll see you then.”

 

If Nathan wasn’t wrong—and he rarely was—there was no maybe about it.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack had no idea what he’d been thinking. Sure, he’d caught Stark staring at him a few times during his workout routine, but that didn’t mean Stark was interested in anything other than making life difficult for him. As far as Jack knew, Stark wouldn’t even show up.

 

Which would be fine—better, even. Jack would go in, order his dinner to go, and take off again. Zoe was spending the night with a friend, so Jack didn’t have to worry about her giving him a hard time.

 

In fact, he’d go, order dinner, and pretend that he’d never even flirted with Stark earlier.

 

Jack scrubbed his hands over his face. “What the hell was I thinking?”

 

“What was that, Sheriff Carter?”

 

SARAH’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Nothing, SARAH. It’s just been a long, weird day.”

 

“You’re not staying here for dinner?”

 

He could; Jack thought about blowing the whole thing off. But—it _felt_ wrong, like standing up a date, even though he and Stark weren’t dating. Hell, they weren’t friends either, and Jack hadn’t been definite about his plans.

 

“Yeah, I’m going to Café Diem,” Jack said. “I told someone I’d meet them there.”

 

“You have a date?” SARAH asked, and Jack might have said her tone was coy if he didn’t know better.

 

Hell, knowing SARAH, she _was_ being coy. His house seemed to develop more personality with every day that went by.

 

“I have a meeting,” Jack said firmly.

 

“You’re not in uniform, Sheriff Carter.”

 

Jack ignored that parting remark and headed out. SARAH would quiz him when he got home, but for now, he had a reprieve.

 

When he arrived at Café Diem, Jack found a spot at a corner table, leaning back in his chair and watching the townspeople come and go. Jack enjoyed people-watching, and he was content just to relax and go unnoticed.

 

He ordered his usual cheeseburger from Vincent, and ate slowly and with relish. Zoe would give him a hard time; she was always on him to cut back on the amount of red meat he ate, but Jack had no intention of doing so. Jack worked hard, and he figured he deserved a few luxuries, like a cheeseburger and the occasional beer.

 

By the time he’d finished the last of his fries and his second drink, Jack had given up on seeing Stark. He might have been annoyed, but the food was good, and the beer was better. He was about ready to give up and go home to catch a game before heading to bed when Stark entered the café, looking tired and harried.

 

“Dr. Stark,” Vincent said immediately. “What can I do for you?”

 

“Surprise me,” Stark replied. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got. And a scotch, neat.”

 

“You got it, Dr. Stark.”

 

Jack was prepared for Stark to ignore him, but he made a beeline for Jack’s table, sliding into the seat across from Jack with a sigh of relief.

 

“Do me a favor and look official,” Stark ordered. “If it looks like we’re discussing business, they might leave us alone.”

 

Jack raised his eyebrows. “You want me to play bodyguard?”

 

“I want an hour to drink and eat in peace,” Stark retorted.

 

Jack schooled his features into an appropriately serious expression. “When you put it that way…”

 

“Thanks.” The gratitude was grudging, but Jack knew what Eureka could be like. Somebody always wanted a piece of him, and Stark occupied a position of similar importance. “If I had to deal with one more fuck-up, I think I’d have killed someone.”

 

“Don’t tell me,” Jack shot back, raising his hands. “If I knew about a murder, I’d be duty-bound to arrest you.”

 

Stark smirked with dark humor. “And if it was Fargo?”

 

Jack couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped. “Then I’d probably have to ask what he did.”

 

“Let’s just say that he came far too close to blowing up the town, even for Fargo.”

 

Jack winced. “Yeah, I don’t want to know about that either.”

 

“You and me both.” Stark took the drink Vincent had set in front of him and slammed it back.

 

“Didn’t think you were going to make it,” Jack said casually, once Vincent put Stark’s meal in front of him.

 

Stark focused on eating, speaking after a couple of bites. “I didn’t think I would either.”

 

Jack nursed his beer and watched the other man inhale his meal. Stark seemed even more intense than usual, which was saying something. He thought about asking what they were doing, if Stark was interested in him as more than just a burr under his saddle.

 

He couldn’t bring himself to ask, though. Jack didn’t know what he wanted the answer to be.

 

When Stark finished eating his steak, pushing his plate away, he sat back and took a breath. “So, I suppose you want to be friends.”

 

Jack laughed. “You think that’s possible?”

 

Stark’s expression was serious, his eyes as intent as Jack had ever seen them. He felt a bit like a science experiment. “I don’t know.”

 

“Then why are we doing this?” Jack asked.

 

Stark smiled, faintly. “Because we’ll never know otherwise.”

 

“I suppose we won’t.”

 

~~~~~

 

Nathan had no idea why he’d ended up inviting Carter back to his place. His house smelled stuffy, as though he had been gone for months, but Nathan had been here so little the last month, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.

 

“I have scotch and beer,” Nathan offered. “And I believe I have a bottle of red wine.”

 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Carter replied, amiable as always.

 

Nathan hesitated for a moment. “Wine okay?”

 

“Sure.”

 

He opened a bottle of red, the one he didn’t mind pouring out for guests. He had a few others he saved for special occasions, but he had no idea whether Carter would even notice how good—or bad—his selection happened to be.

 

Carter held up his glass in a silent toast and sipped. “Nice place you got here.”

 

Nathan looked around at the house that Global had built and saw nothing of himself. He’d moved his things in, but he hadn’t done much else. Nathan hadn’t had the time. “It’s home.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Carter replied shrewdly. “This is just a stopping point for you.”

 

Nathan sipped his wine to hid his dismay at how easily Carter had read the situation. “Home is where the heart is.”

 

“At Global?” Carter inquired. “Or maybe with Allison and Kevin?”

 

Nathan covered his confusion with a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

“Oddly enough, I would,” Carter responded seriously.

 

Nathan had no idea how to respond to that. Carter’s sincerity disarmed him, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 

“Let’s try this,” Carter murmured, setting his glass down on the counter and leaning in.

 

Nathan had expected it, at least from the moment that Carter leaned in, but he hadn’t been able to prepare for Carter’s warmth. For the warm press of his lips against Nathan’s, for the taste of red wine and onion. It shouldn’t have been arousing, but it was.

 

He didn’t like to think about how long it had been since the last time he’d had sex with anybody other than his right hand, and when Carter’s hands gripped his waist and pulled him close, Nathan knew he was going to exert every bit of self-control he had not to come in his pants like a teenager.

 

“Been a while,” Carter gasped against Nathan’s lips, his hips thrusting against Nathan’s thigh. “For you, too?”

 

“Yeah,” he managed.

 

Nathan had no idea when he’d lost control of the evening’s activities, but Carter backed him into the living room, towards the couch, then flat onto his back.

 

“This…isn’t your first—” Nathan stopped, unable to finish the sentence as Jack latched onto a sensitive spot behind his ear.

 

“Not my first rodeo,” Carter agreed, taking a moment to respond. “You might be surprised.”

 

“You’re not as vanilla as I thought,” Nathan gasped out.

 

Carter’s clever fingers trailed down his chest, leaving buttons open in their wake. He hadn’t worn an undershirt—he’d been out of clean ones—and Jack latched onto Nathan’s right nipple.

 

“Shit,” Nathan cursed. How the hell had he lost control of the situation so quickly?

 

Jack glanced up, meeting Nathan’s eyes with a bright, knowing grin. “Like that?”

 

“Carter—”

 

“Call me Jack,” he suggested with a grin. “If we’re going to be friendly, you might as well, right?”

 

Nathan couldn’t do much more than curse as Carter—no, Jack—unbuttoned his slacks, pulling down his pants and boxers with an easy, practiced movement.

 

He was going to have to revise his opinion of the sheriff, Nathan thought. Jack had definitely done this before.

 

“Jack.”

 

Jack’s mouth was far too busy to reply, and Nathan had to exert every ounce of self-control he had not to thrust up into Jack’s mouth. He wanted to keep the sensation going for as long as he could, and he wasn’t going to push his luck.

 

Nathan came far too quickly for his own peace of mind—he felt like a damn kid all over again, unable to last any length of time at all. His gurgled shout of warning had no effect, however, and Jack swallowed with no demonstrable discomfort.

 

In fact, Jack sat up with a satisfied smirk and wiped his mouth. “Good, huh?”

 

“Where the fuck did you learn that?” Nathan managed to gasp.

 

“College,” Jack replied with an offhanded grin. “Before I got married.”

 

Nathan eyed him warily, then made a decision based on his gut feeling, which he rarely did. He preferred hard scientific facts, but he felt better, and more relaxed, than he had for months, which was something he wasn’t willing to give up right at the moment. “I have a bed upstairs.”

 

“Is that an offer?”

 

“As soon as I catch my breath.”

 

“Then I’d be happy to go upstairs.” Jack smirked. “All in the name of getting to know you, right?”

 

Nathan coughed out a laugh. “Sure.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jack hadn’t planned on more than dinner—he hadn’t really even planned on dinner—but when Stark invited Jack back to his place, he couldn’t resist. And then, with a couple of beers in him, he hadn’t been able to resist leaning in, taking what he could get.

 

Because if he couldn’t have Allison, Nathan was his next choice. If he couldn’t have Allison, Jack figured Nathan would be a quality fuck, and wouldn’t expect much the next morning.

 

Jack had enough practice going down on men from his college days, and that wasn’t a trick a guy forgot. Hearing Nathan begging helplessly above him just egged him on, and when Jack followed Nathan upstairs, it was with a smug grin.

 

The bedroom had the same half-deserted feel as the rest of the house, although Jack noticed that the blankets were rumpled, showing that Nathan was at least sleeping in his own bed most of the time.

 

Nathan paused next to the bed, his expression uncertain. “I, uh, I don’t have much in the way of supplies.”

 

Jack raised his eyebrows. “What?”

 

“I haven’t had time.” Nathan sounded just a little defensive. “And I didn’t think I was going to get lucky.”

 

Jack tried to remember the last time he’d bought condoms and realized it had been months. He had a box in his bedside table, but he hadn’t brought any with him.

 

Still, the idea that the great Nathan Stark was getting sex about as regularly as Jack was made him feel better.

 

“Do we need supplies?” Jack asked, deciding that now wasn’t a good time to poke fun; he had yet to get off.

 

“No, I suppose not.” With that, Nathan seemed to find new determination, and he pulled Jack in close.

 

Jack couldn’t quite believe that they were doing this, but when Nathan opened the button on his jeans, and shoved both jeans and boxers over his hips, he let out a long sigh of relief. His pants had been too tight for a while now.

 

Pulling back slightly, Jack pulled his t-shirt over his head, and Nathan bit Jack’s shoulder as he eased them back towards the bed.

 

Jack lost himself in the sensations—Nathan’s mouth, his broad palm and clever fingers. He arched up into Nathan’s touch, his hips jerking as he came over Nathan’s hand.

 

Jack collapsed back on the bed bonelessly, watching as Nathan cleaned himself off. He thought about getting up, but decided that he was far too comfortable.

 

“Do you have anywhere you have to be?” Nathan asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

 

Jack moved his shoulders in the approximation of a shrug. “Not really. Jo’s on call tonight, and Zoe’s spending the night with a friend.”

 

“Then maybe you should stay.”

 

“I’ll have to call SARAH,” Jack replied. “She worries.”

 

Nathan barked out an incredulous laugh. “Only in Eureka.”

 

“True.” Jack settled back with his hands behind his head. “You know, I’m not usually this easy.”

 

“Carter, there’s nothing about you that’s easy,” Nathan shot back, stretching out on the bed.

 

Jack grinned and refused to rise to the bait. “I usually only put out after dinner and many, many drinks.”

 

Nathan snorted, then rolled over and threw an arm across Jack’s chest. “Then I’ll just have to owe you a few drinks.”

 

Jack couldn’t quite keep the smug satisfaction out of his voice as he said, “Maybe after our next work out.”


End file.
